


Almost Lover

by TypicalSherlockFan



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: After The Empty Hearse, Angst, First and last time, Fluff, Hurt, Lost - Freeform, Love, M/M, Sadness, Season 3, Smut, Tears, no real spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:17:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TypicalSherlockFan/pseuds/TypicalSherlockFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John visits 221B for a very last time. Meeting Sherlock and sorting things out. Quite sad but still worth a read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost Lover

**Author's Note:**

> I was hit by this idea while riding the bus back home. It was dark and the song "Certain Things" by James Arthur was playing on my IPod. Now, I basically changed almost everything from my original notes and it got fluffy (again!) and angsty. Also, I listened only to this song, so if you like you can listen to it while reading. And then, you can cry or not.  
> I hope you enjoy.

John was standing in the darkened flat of 221B, surrounded only by a small gleam of light fighting its way through the heavy curtains.

It was a cruel situation and almost unbearable.

Sherlock was kneeling in front of him, digging himself into John’s hip and whispering terrifying words:

“I’m so sorry John, please forgive me. I know that I’ve lost you already but can you please forgive me at least?”

John sighed heavily, his lung feeling as if pressed tightly together and not able to expand. He dared to look into Sherlock’s eyes and got lost in the process.

Sherlock’s gaze was soft and wounded because he wanted nothing more than to please his one-time partner.

“Please,” he whimpered and clung to John’s jeans like a drowning man.

John’s breathing got faster and his right hand brushed trough raven, unruly curls. They were as velvety as he always imagined them to be.

“John, my John.” Sherlock leaned into the gentle touch and had to try really hard to hold it all together. This was the one person in the world he begged, pleaded to. The only person who mattered to him.

John’s voice broke trough Sherlock’s consciousness:

“Sherlock… I’m sorry, but I can’t… I’m…” he said with his voice wavering and trembling, it didn’t hold any life anymore.

“I’ve moved on and I can’t let you into my life again. You… You hurt me and…” Here his voice broke entirely and he had to stop and gather himself for a few seconds.

Sherlock held his breath and felt his heart crumble to pieces bit by bit.

“You were dead and everything just crashed down on me. Now I’ve got Mary and my life got so much better again. I have to concentrate on her, on us now. I’m sorry,” John whispered, honestly being sorry but also not being able to let go off Sherlock just now.

Of his nearness and smell. His touch and voice. His small whimpers and blood red lips. Everything in him yearned to simply touch him.

“Let me take care of you, let me make it alright. Please grant me this one last evening. Will you do this for me John?” Sherlock asked and his eyes were filled with unshed tears.

John caught the other man’s eyes and a wave of guilt, pleasure and sadness overcame him. He contemplated everything and nothing at the same time and when he looked around at the old flat, _their_ flat, he made a decision:

“This night, Sherlock, I’m all yours and you’re all mine.”

Sherlock almost cried in relief and buried his face again in John’s soft skin hidden by layers of clothing. He repeated John’s word and tasted them on his tongue. They were nothing but bittersweet.

“Yours, always yours. And you are mine…” he murmured and slowly his face moved closer to John’s center.

Sucking in air John watched Sherlock’s big hand stroking lazily over his bulge. It was the most wondrous and wonderful sight he ever could have imagined. Nothing was sexier than having this infatuating beautiful man kneeling in front of him, having his eyes fixated on one’s slow awakening hardness.

John licked his lips and could have watched this little game of teasing and desperation forever.

Leisurely Sherlock started unbuttoning John’s jeans and pulling down the zipper, letting the trouser fall to the ground. John stepped out of it and Sherlock could see the outline of his cock, throbbing slightly with anticipation.

Still kneeling but not noticing the hard floor he leaned forward and palmed John’s crotch, earning a groan from the other man. Sherlock was in awe of the soft- and hardness which awaited him beneath the thin garment of John’s pants.

Bit by bit he moved his fingers up and down John’s length, adding pressure here and there and just watching John’s reactions.

Swiftly he wanted to try something different and tasted cotton. His teeth grazed the fine material and he could smell John’s arousal but not yet taste it.

“Oh my God Sherlock. Oh fuck!” John exclaimed and couldn’t tear away his eyes from Sherlock’s mouth lingering on his bulge and getting it wet with saliva.

“Don’t stop Sherl…” The rest of the sentence going astray as he gripped Sherlock’s hair tucking a little bit harder.

Sherlock felt a spark inside of him urging him to taste John without any limitation. Therefore he yanked down the pants, letting John’s cock spring free.

He was so eager to taste him and hear his soft sounds of being pleasured.

Slowly he wetted his lips and engulfed the smooth length inch by inch. His mouth getting filled with John’s taste and hardness.

Whereas John trained his eyes to stay open and watch Sherlock in bliss and astonishment. Also his hand guided his nightly lover up and down. He felt the humming and vibration of Sherlock’s mouth surrounding him in warm moisture.

Both locked eyes when black curls moved and John seeing Sherlock’s lips sucking at his tip, flicking his tongue, let him feel his teeth. Sherlock didn’t look at him provocatively but challenging. They enjoyed their shared act enormously.

John watched the still kneeling man in awe as he took all of him into his mouth until he felt Sherlock’s nose pressing into his flesh. Seemingly he had trained off his gag reflex and repeated this motion several times. Even pressing his hands into John’s buttocks and pushing him deeper into his throat.

After a few seconds Sherlock released him asking John for attention.

“Yes, Sherlock?” John replied breathing quite heavily, all movement halting.

Sherlock stared at him seriously:

“Do you want to fuck my face and come all over it?”

A police car siren passed Baker Street while John simply starred at him, still trying to processing the words he’d just heard.

“You really want this Sherlock?” John asked and crouched down being on Sherlock’s eye level. He just nodded and John grabbed his face, pulling him in for a long and deep kiss.

He couldn’t get enough of sensuous lips and deep voiced moans and so they continued to simply kiss unhurriedly.

Minutes, moments and the world passed by as John got up again and positioned him in front of sharp cheekbones.

Slowly he sunk back into the now well known mouth and gathered all his strength to not come undone.

His fingers grasped velvet locks when he steadily started to thrust. Firstly he still was cautious but then he got faster and slightly harder when he felt Sherlock’s backlash: He wanted his throat get fucked because he loved the thought of being something only used for John’s pleasure but without getting hurt.

A sense of delight washed over John seeing his cock fully disappear between Sherlock’s lips, every so often pushing everything in and out.

“That’s so fucking hot Sherlock, to get my cock sucked by you,” John panted and received an even harder suck from the taller man.

“Open your eyes Beautiful,” he ordered and continued, “I’m going to come now on your stunning face and wish your mouth to be wide open.”

Sherlock complied and was quite keen of getting John’s cum on his face, being marked and owned by him. It made him painfully aware of his own arousal.

John’s right hand stroked over Sherlock’s cheek, opening his mouth a little bit further while frantically touching and pumping his cock.

Actually he still toyed with being on the brink of having one of the mightiest orgasms he’s ever had and besides that he loved seeing a disheveled Sherlock.

“Mine, you’re mine to use and love,” he stated the obvious and knew that he was very, very close to the edge.

When Sherlock’s tongue showed itself to John he couldn’t hold back anymore. His breathing escalated and he not only came but spilled so much of himself onto Sherlock’s face, his hair, neck and lips.

It was the hottest thing he had ever done or seen.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” John chanted and came crushing down to the ground. His knees had become so weak and it seemed that all strength had abandoned him.

Meanwhile Sherlock had kneeled still while he watched John’s orgasm unfold on his lover’s body and voice. He had loved every last drop of him.

But because it became very icky very quickly he went to the kitchen and cleaned his face with an old and long forgotten towel.

John had slumped down and was feeling quite boneless but also content. He noticed Sherlock’s outstretched hand to heave him up again. He took it without a second thought and was encircled into a tight hug.

It felt strange but very much right to be in the arms of his Sherlock. His detective he was still falling for but could never have a future with.

Sherlock’s fingers brushed over John’s back and when he looked at the smaller man he couldn’t hide the red brims of his eyes. Tears couldn’t be held back anymore.

“John…” Sherlock whispered and sniffed while he gave him an adoring smile. “Can I take you to bed and show you what you mean to me?” He questioned and swept his nose over John’s.

It was a cute, little Eskimo kiss and such a sweet gesture that John had to gulp. He wanted this man so much that it actually physical pained him to observe the colour changing of Sherlock’s irises. Mostly meaning a nuance in emotions and sentiments.

“Take me with you wherever you want, I’ll follow you whichever way you chose,” he answered and felt smooth lips on his as affirmation of this statement.

Sherlock took a hold of John’s hand and pulled him upstairs to the doctor’s bedroom.

“It’s been a long time I’ve opened this door,” Sherlock said quietly and stepped aside to let John in.

“It’s the same for me,” John murmured and looked at the walls as if he had never seen them before. Seemingly nothing had been touched or moved.

“Sometimes I have slept in your bed, imaging having you by my side. Waking up before you do and just watch your face in the rising light of the sun.” The detective confessed and looked sadly at the empty piece of furniture.

John didn’t know what to reply. Words couldn’t express these heart wrenching feelings of deep love and adoration for his man.

Locking the door Sherlock stood opposite to John and scratched a patch on his arm. He looked unsure of himself, almost childlike and being quite fearful.

“Sherlock, look at me,” John said tenderly and caught the other man’s now eager eyes.

The soldier steadied himself but knew that these words were overdue since a long time:

“Sherlock Holmes, I love you.”

Sherlock stared at him in awe and confusion but made two steps forward and lunged at John.

“My brave soldier, my heart and blood. My will to live and not give up. You. Are. My. Everything. I love you John Watson,” he replied with the utmost honesty he had ever mustered. “So, so much,” he muttered and bowed down his head to meet John’s already awaiting lips.

They were aware that only this one night belonged righteously to them and their affection, therefore they couldn’t simply stop with their terms of endearments.

Both men didn’t care for their status of undress and made the best of it by getting rid of everything and finally being completely naked.

John could never get tired of looking at the younger and taller man in front of him. He was so unique and thrilling. And Sherlock loved every scar and line on John’s skin which was inked into his flesh.

Hardened smoothness met and enticed Sherlock’s lean and long digits to enclose and skim over. The pair moved jointly at a lustful pace while they still tried to taste each other’s tongues and breaths. It was never enough.

Gradually they moved to the bed and John pushed away the blanked while he made space for himself to lie down with Sherlock on top of him.

“You feel so good. I could kiss you until the end of time,” John declared and automatically opened his legs to let Sherlock come between them.

“I would follow this up very gladly Mr. Watson, but first of all I want to do this,” he whispered hoarsely and put his cock at John’s entrance. Its tip had been wetted with spit and was mildly stretching John’s skin.

It was like getting hit by a lightning and John sucked in some air when he felt Sherlock’s prick pressing against him.

Sherlock was only teasing but enjoyed John’s changing mimic thoroughly. He repeated this a few times always getting himself a little bit further inside.

Pleading and certain sounds were emitted by John’s voice, a cue for Sherlock to take out the lube from the bedside drawer.

John nibbled on the delicious neck in front of him and tasted the salted, musky skin. Meanwhile Sherlock put lube on his cock, John’s entrance and prick. Making the man lying underneath slightly squirm in surprise of the cold liquid.

“I love you,” Sherlock stated again and looked at John while he slowly pushed inside.

“Mmmm, and I love you,” John almost purred and hold his breath while he sensed Sherlock’s entire length being buried in him.

Sherlock bit into John’s neck and let out a long drawn moan when he noticed John pushing carefully back.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said and was actually afraid to move.

“It’s okay Sherlock. Just do it slowly and nothing but good things will happen,” John assured smilingly. His hands already gotten lost in the unruly mop of black hair and his head tilting back when Sherlock finally acted out on his instincts.

He had decided to switch off his brain and just give the love John Watson deserved. He wanted to make him happy.

And so he tried several different angles until he definitely hit John’s prostate and heard a high pitched scream from him.

Sherlock’s breathing fastened according to his movements and feelings of being surrounded by warm walls of skin and John’s voice in his ears, telling him to be the only one and the most beautiful human being in the world.

It incited him to push harder and deeper for the sake of their sanity.

“Yes, yes that’s right. Just a tad quicker and I’ll be coming,” John groaned and opened up his eyes.

He watched Sherlock’s strained but also extremely turned on face as he poured everything he could into John’s body and soul.

“Sherlock, please open your eyes. I want us to see each other’s faces when we come,” he asked pleadingly.

Green orbits met a blue sea and it brought both men over their edges while shouting out names and profanities.

Sherlock didn’t dare to move for a few seconds and John could only see stars and curly hair.

Absolutely beaming Sherlock gave John a long kiss and rolled off and laid next to him.

A big smile formed itself on the doctor’s face and he interlaced Sherlock’s right hand with his. Giving it a quick kiss and bringing it to this thumping heart.

“Feel this?” He asked panting.

“Yes.” Was Sherlock’s short answer.

“It beats so fast because of you.” John said and turned his head to Sherlock, staring directly into the depths of the other man’s soul.

“John…” Sherlock whispered and reached out to brush his fingers tenderly over John’s chest.

Now everything tightened inside of John, every molecule and organ was compressed and he knew that this was it.

“I forgive you Sherlock but it still doesn’t change my decision. I have to leave,” he said sadly and turned his face away again.

Sherlock didn’t move but watched every movement.

The movement of John getting a tissue to clean himself, getting up altogether and gathering his clothes while avoiding to look at Sherlock.

Of course the rest of John’s stuff was downstairs and so Sherlock put on his trousers and followed him into the living room.

After several, dreadful minutes John was fully dressed again and was in front of the door with Sherlock directly behind him.

He turned around but didn’t hide his tears.

“Promise me Sherlock that you won’t give up. Promise me this.”

Sherlock took John’s hands and held them when he replied:

“I promise John, for you…”

John hesitated but then opted for a last goodbye kiss.

Sherlock lifted him up for a bit and put every sentiment he had for this man into this final kiss.

As John left, Sherlock watched him through the window and saw the love of his life, his soulmate, walk away from him forever.

 

 

 

 


End file.
